


Grave

by wastefulreverie



Series: PhannieMay Shots 2019 [3]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Creepy, Eerie, Funny, Gen, Ghosts, Graphic Description of Corpses, Horror, Horror Comedy, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastefulreverie/pseuds/wastefulreverie
Summary: Despite all horror movie lore, Danny had never encountered any ghosts in a graveyard. So, why not see what happens?





	Grave

One thing that Danny didn't exactly understand about the ghosts that visited Amity Park was the fact that there was never any ghost attacks in the _one_ place you'd expect ghosts to haunt. Ghosts haunted the amusement park, the movie theater, library, local restaurants, the school - just about anywhere, really. But despite all horror movie lore, he'd never encountered any ghosts in a graveyard. That said, Danny hadn't actually visited a graveyard since eighth grade. But despite all odds, he'd never had to hunt down any ghosts to a graveyard or even had his ghost sense go off in the vicinity of one.

 _So_ , he thought with a distinct lack of eloquence, _I guess I'll just fuck around in a graveyard and see what happens._ There had to be some explanation for why ghosts avoided graveyards despite all stereotypes.

Unlike most normal people, Danny didn't really have any phobias about being around dead people or things. After all, he was partially dead to some degree and it would be somewhat detrimental to his sleep schedule if he stayed up scared of _that_ aspect of himself. (Sure, he had other phobias, but 'being undead' was definitely one he'd already conquered.) Therefore, the idea of sneaking into public property reserved for planting corpses in the middle of the night wasn't exactly unnerving to him.

So, once he convinced his parents that he was in bed for the night, Danny transformed, flew out the wall, and headed for Amity Park's biggest graveyard. It wasn't too far from his house, oddly enough - just about five blocks away.

When he arrived, there was nothing notably unsettling straight off the bat. It was a typical graveyard, an assortment of cracked tombstones with various tells of aging. In this area of the graveyard, most of the markers were fairly dated but not necessarily new nor old; most of them were from the 1960s-70s. To his left were more modern graves, most of them were made of some variant of marble and each occupied a clean square of land; to his right were the debilitated tombstones, messy rows of stone graves that lacked the same _precision_ that the newer graves had. It felt especially eerie to see the evolution of time within the average grandeur and organization of graves.

Danny flew towards the left, deciding to hang out around the newer graves. The moderately cool, autumn air seemingly vibrated with his movement - somewhat draining him of his energy. _That_ was strange. It was like the atmosphere _itself_ was tiring him, absorbing his excess ectoenergy. Figuring that he was too tired to float now, Danny lowered himself between two graves ( _Johnson, 2006; Coulier, 2004_ ) and surrendered to gravity.

His ghostly glow illuminated the ground, casting weird shadows on the tombstones. Now that he could see, he observed that the grass was withered and brown, acting as a weak padding between his feet and the rancid, liquidy mud that sloshed beneath his weight. He hadn't realized that it had rained lately, but there was no other reason that the ground would retain so much water….

A hazy heaviness settled within his core akin to fatigue. It was sudden yet the feeling was still building, and it was building gradually, paralyzing him where he stood. When he had been flying, it had felt like something was sucking up the energy he exerted. But now… with his feet firmly on the ground, he was directly linked to whatever force was draining energy around the graveyard. Something about his physical connection to the Earth was depleting him. It felt like tendrils had snaked around his feet, into his body, and had a hand around his core; smothering him and easing him into sleep. _Disorienting dizziness swimming all around_.

This wasn't good, at this rate he'd probably pass out. This rush of exhaustion was tempting to succumb to, but Danny held onto himself. _But my core is so tired…._

He forced himself to move, stumbling over his own feet and recklessly catching himself on a tomb. His sleep deprived mind focused on the epitaph below him like it was the only thing that mattered: ' _Loving wife, mother, and free spirit - Tonya Gatlin, 1965-2007.'_ He had to stay awake. He needed to stay oriented.

Danny squinted, attempting to see past the weariness that was causing his eyelids to droop. Everything was blurred, all too surreal. And was he… hallucinating? As if someone flipped a switch, he could suddenly see through the ground. Below the dead grass, every few feet or so there were yellow-greenish outlines of tangled limbs; rows among rows of glowing x-rays of corpses beneath their tombstones above. Sickly yellow skeletons peppered with opalescent green strips of decaying flesh; slack-jawed skulls crawling with milky-toned maggots.

Reality shifted, and suddenly the radiating images of corpses beneath the ground were the clearest thing in Danny's world. What was this? Was he so tired that he was making the ground invisible with his powers? Could he even _do_ that? No, it must be a side effect of whatever had latched onto his core. He had been plugged into a network of dormant souls, fragments of the deceased that remained unconscious in their bodies. Not even conscious ghosts were immune to the fatigue here.

This must be why ghosts never wandered into graveyards; the allure of sleep here was too strong. No wonder they called it a 'final resting place'.

The bodies beneath the dirt hummed with a soft resonance, inviting him to stay. He was so lethargic that the small spark of protest in his mind was easily stifled with another influx of drowsiness. His head felt sluggish and heavy and he knew that he couldn't stand much longer. He needed to find a place to sleep, to allow himself to slip away into the captivating lull of death.

So, Danny let go of the tombstone he was using to stay balanced. Detached from his own actions, he walked aimlessly through the rows of graves, allowing his core to guide him through this labyrinthe assortment of tombs. Instead his head, he was just a spectator observing his body act on the whims of the graveyard's demands.

He approached the edge of the property and there was already a vacant grave made; a six-foot deep cavity in the ground. It was clearly a suitable bed for the deceased, and he was tired, so why shouldn't he sleep in it? With what was left of his power, he eased himself down into the grave with a bout of levitation. Once his body was settled in the dirt, enclosed by the Earth on all sides, Danny allowed himself to slip into a tranquil slumber.

* * *

When Danny woke up, there was a faint murmuring coming from somewhere behind him. Or, at least it sounded like it was behind him; which didn't make sense because his bed was pushed up against the wall? Nobody should be standing behind his bed.

Unless... he wasn't _in_ his bed. Instead, he was laying on a hard, lumpy surface - it was cold, but at least it wasn't a lab table. About ten seconds after that thought, he realized that he had no flipping clue where he was. Yesterday's memories were yet to compute in his brain. _Just fucking great._

Refusing to face reality yet, he squinted his eyes firmly shut, hoping to ignore whatever problem he had to deal with today. Ignorance was supposedly bliss and until he was forced to wake up, he was staying in the dark. Physically _and_ metaphorically.

Unfortunately, the voices around him became discernible.

"-ever happened before? This is _ridiculous-_ "

"-not even injured-"

"-stupid Amity Park teens always pulling this crap-"

Giving in to his curiosity, Danny hesitantly opened his eyes. It was bright so everything took a moment to come into focus, but he could tell that he was on his back, outside, vulnerable to the sky above him. People were above him, far above him, because for some reason he was at the bottom of some hole in the ground…? Individual faces came into focus, some shocked, with watery red eyes; others were cold, precise and dark makeup holding their expression together. No one looked pleased to find him laying at the bottom of this chasm, wherever this was.

He awkwardly pushed himself into a sitting position, and the murmuring above him ceased. How had he gotten here? Who were those people?

Someone cleared their throat, " _Ahem_ … Kid - are you… okay down there?" a man asked nervously. Danny looked up and tried to discern which of the people had spoken. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a young bearded man dressed in a formal suit, nervously clutching the hand of another terrified woman.

"Where _am_ I?" Danny wondered. Someone sniggered while most of the people leering at him bristled in discomfort. Feeling like a big under a magnifying glass, Danny averted his eyes and looked down at his muddy jeans instead. Oh, right - his _jeans_ ; he completely forgot to check if he was Fenton or Phantom. At least now he knew that he was supposed to be a human in this scenario.

"You're in Raven Grove Cemetery," the humored voice replied. "Must've fallen in there, sonny."

And suddenly, everything made much more sense. The broken faces, weakly held together by circumstance; why he was at the bottom of some pit, a _grave_ ; and now that he really looked, he could see the corner of a glossy, oak box on the ground…. _Holy shit_ , this was mortifying. How had he even fallen into an empty grave? It's not like he could really fall with his ghost powers and all! He must've… must've gone to the bottom of the grave himself, to sleep….

He looked at the anticipating faces above him, judging him for disrupting this already painful ceremony. His presence had completely impeded on someone's burial and there wasn't much he could do to make up for it.

"I uh, tripped?" he tried weakly.

_He was never going to live this one down if Sam or Tucker found out._


End file.
